Yesterday, I went to Voigt (local music shop- they're real great there. If you're ever in my area, go there!) to purchase cleaning products for my guitar.
Jennifer (my guitar) has gotten dirty since her last cleaning, and it's been a damn
long time. And her strings were starting to rust. I take that back. Her
strings were rusty as hell. The fretboard was covered in sweat and dirt
and dust, and their were fingerprints all over her body- front, back,
neck, headstock. Not to mention, Jennifer's gold hardware... it ain't
so gold no more.
I waited until around 10:30 PM to get started. Had to go to a
basketball game, and when I got home, my sister was here with Noah, my
month-old nephew, and I was drafted into holding him while my sister
browsed the internet, and my mother was doing something random. The
same could be said of my father.
I undress Jennifer gently, winding down the strings and detuning them
until I could pull them off of the pegs and out of the hole. I went
through this process six times, until she was naked of her strings. I
pulled off the bridge piece, and pulled out the polishing cloth and
polishing solution I had purchased several hours before.
I sprayed a sufficient quantity of polish (Dunlop Formula 65) onto her
backside, and began rubbing gently with the cloth. I had spread the
solution around, and had gotten her to start shining. I flipped the
cloth around, and began buffing with the dry side, making sure to wipe
away all the marks of our time together. I had not only restored
Jennifer to the quality of when I received her, as the label
proclaimed, but I had brought out more beauty than I can recall ever
having seen.
I continued to polish the rest of her body carefully, taking out all of
the blood, sweat and tears that had accumulated over her surface since
her last cleaning. The cloth started to look dirty, but I was not done
yet. I took out the Dunlop Lemon Oil, specifically designed to be used
on such a guitar as mine, with a dark fretboard.
I vigorously shook the bottle until at last the lemon oil flowed into
the dobbing pad. I wiped a sufficient amount between the frets, and
carefully began wiping away the accumulation of many hours of musical
concentration. The wood was dirty and dry prior to this process. Now,
it had life to it. It was clean and lubricated, good for going through
some nice bluesy solos, and seamless chord changes.
I opened the pack of strings after having cleaned the bridge piece.
SHIT! I bought the wrong string size! I had a pack of Elixirs, which
was good- Dave recommended them after I asked which had the best
longevity of tone. I had intended to get .10-.48 string gauge, but I
ended up with .11-.49 gauge strings. Oh well... I planned on playing a
half step below standard most of the time anyway, and thicker strings
will compensate for tension.
Jennifer has been restored beyond what she ever could have been. Beyond
beauty I have ever known. I am privileged to have in my possession such
a beautiful guitar, both tonally and visually.
Man..., I wanna fuck your guitar. That's probably wrong. Hey, I've got finger cheese on a couple of fretboards that's older than you! I think I'll name my Silver Series 'Trixie' because she's a filthy whore.
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